


stepping on edges

by Siff



Series: yakuza au [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Aizen uses Gin who likes it, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Gin might be clever but he's also young and dumb, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, pre Gin/Byauya, the guys are not good people in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 22:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30045747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siff/pseuds/Siff
Summary: The leaders of the two strongest and most dangerous clans are meeting, and Aizen brings Gin along. It's the event of the century and will even take place in the most dangerous place possible - at the very heart of the Kuchiki clan.
Relationships: Aizen Sousuke/Ichimaru Gin, past Aizen Sousuke/Kuchiki Shoujun
Series: yakuza au [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909678
Kudos: 4





	stepping on edges

**Author's Note:**

> Been writing on this for years. It's the thing that started the whole yakuza-au series I've begun. I'm stuck in everything new, so I thought I might as well work on this. 
> 
> I think it goes without saying that I have only a small research-level of knowledge regarding the yakuza and Japanese architecture. I'm trying my best, but it's a given there'll be several holes.  
> Anyway, enjoy!

The Kuchiki estate is located halfway up a large mountain, which is good, in Gin's opinion, since the convoy of black cars driving up the winding road is less than discreet. But that is, of course, the whole point. When one head of a family visits another, there's not only security to think of but also the rather childish need to make a show – both very important, apparently.

The Old Man is of the old school, and the cars are filled with his best and meanest looking men. More brawn than brains, to be honest, but again, it's all about the show. Image is everything in this line of work. Which is no doubt the reason why Aizen was given permission to bring Gin along. Being strongly disliked by the members of their own group, Gin never thought he'd ever be allowed to visit the Kuchiki family, but this time, his strange looks earned him a free ticket. Despite the reason, it's nice to be invited. Saves him the trouble of sneaking in.

He can't help but feel slightly disappointed, though. He usually likes a challenge. And what a challenge this place would be. As he sits in the car, dressed in the finest clothes he's ever worn, he looks out the window and tries to catch a glimpse of the estate.

It isn't easy. The mountain seems to have sprung up from the earth with one purpose alone; to be as difficult to climb as possible.

Before humans began their noble and tireless effort of taming the land, the mountain had been a place where only those born on it knew how to navigate it. Even today, with satellites and governments watching, the large pile of unmoving rock is almost unknown to the public. Rising high and covered in trees, the place is a deathtrap to anyone who, like those people of old, isn't allowed into its tightly held secrets.

How the Kuchiki family had managed to build their house those hundreds of years ago, without the aid of proper roads and in almost secrecy, is still a mystery. It only seems to add fuel to the idea of their might and cleverness.

Gin likes the idea. A house built of secrets.

Many stories swirl around the place. How the foundation is supposedly built on top of a shōen owned by a family the Kuchiki's used to serve. How the family had mysteriously disappeared, and how a young Kuchiki had taken over the land.

Other stories tell of hidden tunnels and buried treasures. Of bodies buried in the woods surrounding the estate and ghosts haunting the halls at night. Children's stories, really. There's no proof. Not that the lack of makes it any less interesting in Gin's opinion. All myths and stories stem from a piece of truth. Sometimes it only takes a bit of digging.

He doubts he'll get the chance, though. This meeting is an important one, and Gin is sure he won't even be able to take a piss without being watched by either his own people or a Kuchiki lackey. A real shame. He's literally being brought right into the heart of one of the oldest and mysterious houses in all of Japan, and the limited time he's given will no doubt be spent standing around and glaring at muscled goons.

Still, there's always something to learn, as Aizen constantly reminds him of.

"Watch, Gin," he'd said before getting into the car. "Watch and listen."

Gin had just rolled his eyes. He knows what his job is. He might be a part of the family, but Gin serves Aizen in all things, and he seems to have his own plans. Not that he's including Gin in them. He's keeping his cards close these days, and Gin isn't privy to know too much. All he's picked up is that this meeting is vital to Aizen, perhaps even more so than to the Old Man.

Aizen doesn't slack off on his duties, however. No matter what his own agenda is, he's still loyal to the Old Man. at least so far. He's worked the last few weeks tirelessly to get the details of the visit into place. He's even had to spend many late nights with Sasakibe – who he usually tends to avoid – discussing the protection of the Old Man. With so much work, Gin had hoped to be overlooked, but no. Aizen had spent days drilling proper behavior into Gin, who'd been forced to practice bowing and formal speaking for hours until Aizen had been satisfied. He'd even bought Gin some new clothes, handpicked by Aizen himself.

Gin doesn't see the fuzz about designer clothes. Sure, he's never worn such a soft, white shirt before, but since it's not tailored to him, it's still a bit too large on his frame. His suit fits better, but Gin misses his hooded jacket and dark jeans. He feels like a child dressed up for a wedding or something.

At least the suit is black. Small mercies, he supposes. He still thinks he looks wrong, like a wild animal with a diamond-studded collar.

He'll never look good in anything but his usual attire. Aizen, however, seems to be born to wear fine clothes. Out of bed, Gin rarely sees Aizen in anything but his three-piece suits. He favors dark greys and even darker blues, and everything seems to suit him. People like Gin have to dress for a role, while others, like Aizen, merely accept a part that appears to be written for them alone.

Gin was born to roam the streets, while Aizen was born to rule over them. Not that he shows it. It's a subtle art; one Gin has yet to master.

But he's learning. As they drive up the mountain, he sneaks a look in the rearview mirror and catches a glimpse of Aizen. Ever since the caravan of cars left the Old Man's house, Aizen has been deep into his work, either talking on the phone or flipping through the folder with papers regarding the Kuchiki family. Gin doesn't know why he bothers. They've been all over the Kuchiki family for weeks now, and he knows Aizen has a memory better than anyone. There can't possibly be anything in that folder he hadn't already memorized months ago.

As if sensing he's being watched, Aizen raises his eyes and meets Gin's in the mirror. Gin smiles and gives him a small wave. There's only the slightest tuck at the corner of Aizen's mouth before he looks down again. Grinning, Gin turns back to looking out of the window.

Their arrival at the estate is grand and over the top. Both families make a number out of showing off with all their worth. The Old Man and Kuchiki Ginrei greet each other like brothers, but there's a subtle tension radiating off the gathered members from both sides. Everything seems like a new round in a game going on for years, and everyone seems to know the rules – the introductions, the greetings, the flexing of muscles, and the glaring through expensive sunglasses. There's even a flash of tattoos when a cufflink is less than discretely adjusted and noticeable bulges of hidden guns.

The tension doesn't lessen until the two old leaders enter the house, side by side. Being Aizen's right hand, Gin is allowed to follow into the estate. He feels an almost childlike excitement stepping through the doors of the main house and eagerly looks around. On the outside, the building is grand, but it is inside that the Kuchiki clan really flaunt their evident wealth. The entire house is old, beautiful, and seemingly perfect. There's not a speck of dust to be found anywhere and not a scratch to see on the wooden floors. The hallways are long with painted walls, and the Kuchiki crest (two cranes and a sakura flower) can be seen everywhere; carved into the wooden beams, painted on vases, embroidered on banners hanging down from the ceiling.

It's all a bit much in Gin's opinion, but even he can appreciate the craftsmanship that's clearly put into everything in the house. He doesn't know what to think of the servants, however. They seem human enough, dressed in expensive but simple robes, but they barely act human. They bow deeply and respectfully, lining the entrance to the house like unmoving statues. A sudden image of pushing to one and see the rest topple like domino pieces makes Gin snicker, and it earns him a look from Aizen. He quickly ducks his head.

While he always knew this visit would be full of acts, Gin quickly becomes utterly bored when it becomes clear just how many traditions such a visit contains.

In a large room, the two leaders sit on each side of a small table, sharing sake and alternatively shifts between pleasantries and loaded allusions. The game is apparently to see how far one can insult the other without actually doing so, and the two old men seem to have immense fun with it.

While it amuses Gin at the beginning to hear the leaders so easily share verbal abuse, he quickly loses interest, and his eyes begin to drift.

Despite the room's size, only a handful of suited men from each family have been allowed inside. The Old Man has Sasakibe, his second in command, sitting to his right, while Aizen is to his left. Gin sits to the side, leaning against the wall. He's sort of in the middle ground. Far from important enough to share sake with the leaders and their most trusted, but still more important than the muscles guarding them.

Between him and the door sits Madarame and Yumichika. Madarame's busy grinning provocatively at the Kuchiki goons, who, in return, glares with evident suspicion. His bokken is lying across his knees, and Gin is actually impressed since he's pretty sure Madarame didn't have it with him when they entered the house. Yumichika glares as well, though it seems aimed at the goon's clothes and hairstyles.

On Gin's other side is Zaraki. He's usually the last one to volunteer for something like this since, in his opinion, anything that can't be solved by hitting or cutting is a waste of time. Gin was surprised to see him exit the car the Old Man rode in, but it makes sense, he thinks.

It's clever to bring him along. His massive body usually is enough to make him stick out, but in surroundings like these, he seems more like a demon on a leash as he grins at the Kuchiki men. A leash the Old Man holds. Just a part of the game, Gin knows and wonders how much the Old Man is paying Zaraki to behave.

Compared to Zaraki, the Kuchiki men look dull. Gin knows they're all deadly despite looking like office workers.

Only one really sticks out, and he's far from a simple henchman. Behind Ginrei sits the future of the Kuchiki Clan. Sōjun, the oldest son and heir.

Like all the important members of the Kuchiki family, Aizen forced Gin to memorize details about the man, and he has to admit the rumors are true. He's very handsome. Sharp eyes and fine cheekbones. Fair skin with black hair falling elegantly around his shoulders. He sits with perfect form, hands resting on his thighs, and manages to look like a man of stature without coming off as arrogant. He doesn't even look close to the forty-six years he is, and Gin wonders if it's the Kuchiki genes since Ginrei doesn't look as old as he is either. Quite a feat, since the man looks ancient.

As the formal meeting between the two men finally comes to an end, Ginrei generously invites them all to stay the night.

"We couldn't possibly intrude," says the Old Man, and Gin resists the urge to roll his eyes. The cars are filled with overnight bags since such an invitation was expected from the beginning.

"I insist," says Ginrei with a smile. "I also insist you join me for dinner."

"You are very kind." The Old Man accepts with a nod.

"Kyou," says Ginrei, and a man sitting behind him stands up. He looks a bit like the Kuchiki heir, though far less handsome. "Find suitable rooms for our guests."

Aizen had earlier drilled into Gin how such a meeting usually took place. The formal and more public part is always drawn out and usually a show of power. The rest of the evening will be held behind closed doors. The two leaders will, from now on, talk privately, discussing the real issues at hand. Only a few will be allowed to join them, and Aizen will be one of them. Gin will not.

Servants seem to appear from thin air and lead the guests off to their quarters for the night. As the room slowly empties, Gin drifts over to Aizen, who is talking with Sōjun.

The air around the two men is comfortable, and Gin watches, fascinated as they share small talk. Sōjun is almost a decade older than Aizen and the heir to the Kuchiki family, yet they talk like equals. Like old friends.

"I was worried when I heard about the accident last month," says Sōjun. "I hope you've recovered."

"Ah, yes," says Aizen and shifts his right shoulder a bit. He smiles at Sōjun. "You are very kind."

Gin schools his expression into an indifferent mask, but he wonders. Very few know about Aizen being shot. It was something they tried to keep quiet since the attack had been embarrassing, in the sense that a low-crime gang had managed to get Aizen unguarded for just a second.

Turned out the poor fool had been tricked into it, but that didn't mean Tōsen had gone easy on him afterward.

Aizen had then stated to Gin that the matter was closed and not to be mentioned again, but not only does the Kuchiki heir know about it, but Aizen actually acknowledges it.

"I'm glad," says Sōjun and seems to truly mean it. The two look at each other, and Gin gets a very uneasy feeling.

Not liking it at all, he quickly steps up to them, smiling. "Aizen-sama, I think your room is ready."

It's like a spell breaking. Both men look at him with surprise, like none of them even noticed his presence until now. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's fine, Gin," says Aizen, but there's an edge to his voice Gin knows all too well by now. Aizen is not pleased with him butting in. “May I present, Kuchiki Sōjun.”

Gin bows respectfully. "A pleasure, Kuchiki-sama."

"This is Ichimaru Gin," says Aizen. "My assistant."

Glad that he's still bowing; Gin doesn't hide his sneer. Assistant? What a joke.

"I see," says Sōjun and smiles kindly to Gin when he straightens up. Then he turns back to Aizen. "I'll leave you to get sorted then. See you at dinner."

They bow to him as they leave (Gin lower than Aizen), and Gin gets to glare at him through the strands of his hair. Aizen then turns to him. "So, you know where I'm staying?"

"Oh, absolutely not," Gin says easily. "I lied."

Aizen hums like this doesn't surprise him at all. "Find out then. I need to speak to the leader."

"Yes, Aizen-sama."

Aizen nods and walks over to the Old Man, who is talking to Sasakibe. Gin watches them for a moment before searching for a servant who can show him the way. And as if waiting for this moment, one materializes right next to him.

"Can I help you?" the young man asks. Gin tilts his head a little, amused and annoyed.

"I need directions to Aizen Sōsuke’s room."

The young man bows. "I'll find out at once," and then he disappears through a narrow door.

Gin is tempted to follow, but from what he's seen of the estate already, he might get lost in five minutes. Instead, he waits, stealing glances at Aizen, who's deep in conversation with the two other men. When the servant returns, he's accompanied by two others. They bow to Gin, who is beginning to tire of their behavior.

"The rooms have been prepared," the young man says. “Also, for Yamamoto-sama and Sasakibe-sama.”

"All right then," says Gin and walks over to Aizen. "Apologies, Leader," he says to the Old Man with a bow, "but the rooms are ready." He nods towards the servants.

The Old Man gives Gin a long look from beneath his bushy eyebrows. "I suppose some rest is in order," he says reluctantly, almost with a defeated tone, like Gin has just spent ten minutes talking him into taking a nap. "We'll talk later," he tells Aizen and Sasakibe.

As the leader and his right-hand man are lead away, Gin and Aizen follow the young man out of the room, and it turns out Gin was right. The house is a maze. A giant, beautiful trap for strangers, and as they walk, Gin draws a mental map, carefully remembering each hallway and each turn.

The place is so large and so old; Gin has no doubt that some of the myths have to be true. It itches inside him to go explore, but he has a role to play for now and dutifully stays behind Aizen, who walks like he's not only been here before but knows the way by heart and only humors the servant by following him.

They exit the main house and steps out into an outdoor corridor. The bridge-like walkway is open on both sides, with only a delicate wooden banister to protect the walker from falling half a meter down unto the swept stones below. Gin doesn't know why they bothered since the fall is nothing but a big step down, and the banister is at knee height, probably more likely to cause a fall than prevent it. He's impressed by the architecture of the walkway, but still.

The weather is nice outside. The roof of the corridor shields them from the sun, but the open walls let a warm breeze through, and Gin can hear the sound of running water, despite not seeing it. He's close to just jump the banister and search for it but holds himself back and dutifully follows Aizen and the servant into the next house, which is only _slightly_ less grandiose than the main house.

Here the hallways are a bit narrower and have sharper turns, and Gin catches a glimpse of the Old Man's men as they're led to their rooms. A guest house then. Larger than any Gin has ever seen before. The room that's been prepared for Aizen is actually more like a small apartment. It contains a greeting room, a bedroom, a sitting room, a bathroom, all old-fashioned, and all grand. The bathroom alone is larger than Gin's apartment, and he looks around with slight disgust at the clear display of wealth.

There are no signs of anyone having stayed in the rooms before. It's probably reserved only for their finest guests but is so neat, Gin wonders if the Kuchiki family have their servants clean it even when they're not in use. Probably. He shortly considers finding the Old Man's quarters, just to see how it might look, but decides against it. It might just make him vomit.

The servant gives Gin directions to his own room ( _one_ room and much, much smaller) further down the hallway and tells them when dinner will be served in the dining hall. Aizen thanks him warmly, and the young man blushes a deep red.

Gin watches the door close behind the servant and then snorts. "If you keep talking to him like that, he'll end up with a crush on you."

"Hmm, perhaps," says Aizen and removes his jacket, clearly not listening to Gin. He goes over to his bags, which someone had brought up from the car. As he digs through them, Gin does the usual sweep. He searches all the furniture and vases and flower arrangements. He checks the bookshelves in the sitting room and even the smoke detectors, which aside from the large flatscreen television, look like the only modern things in the entire suite.

"Find anything?" Aizen asks, and Gin notes he sounds amused.

"Nothing so far," he answers and eyes the walls. He's been thorough. He knows how to look for these things, and finding nothing makes his unease. No cameras or microphones, but there's no accounting for hidden panels and hollow walls. Aizen pulls out his laptop and sits down by a low table.

"You might not find anything. Not everyone spies in their guests."

Gin huffs out a laugh. Yeah, right. "Don't tell me you think they trust us."

"Oh, absolutely not," says Aizen, eyes on the screen. "But the Kuchiki is too honorable to insult visitors like that."

Honor. Gin has, of course, heard of the concept, though he's thankfully not burdened by something so useless — no honor amongst thieves and all that yada yada.

He thinks of the stories about the Kuchiki clan. The true ones, those with proof. The Kuchiki are ruthless when threatened. Whatever honor they have doesn't exactly extend to mercy when concerning their enemies. Or their own, for that matter.

While he's not convinced the Kuchiki isn't watching them in some way, Gin gives in for now and joins Aizen in the sitting room. He watches him for a moment as Aizen taps away on the keyboard, the light from the screen reflecting in his glasses.

"So, when did you fuck the Kuchiki lordling?"

The tapping stops, and Gin grins widely.

Aizen raises his eyes to glance at him over the screen, but he doesn't say anything. He only sighs before returning to his work. Gin tilts his head.

"Is it a secret?" Aizen ignores him. "Ah, I see, you want me to guess, right?"

Gin walks over to a fine chair that looks as old as the house itself and jumps into it, disappointed when it doesn't even creak. "It must have been some years ago," he says, throwing his legs over one armrest and leaning his head back over the other. "I doubt you'd fuck a man from another family while working for the Old Man."

Aizen continues to ignore him, but there's just a slight tension to his shoulders that's hard to miss.

He watches Aizen work for a moment, contemplating this new piece of information about the man. Aizen is so secretive; even Gin barely knows about his life before joining the family. He must have been young when he fooled around with the Kuchiki, who being a decade older than Aizen, must already have been married by then. There's something that just doesn't fit. Aizen's age, the way the two still seem so at ease around each other.

And then it suddenly hits him.

"Oh, I get it now," he says. "He fucked you, didn't he?"

The tapping stops, and Gin feels a thrill go through him. Bingo.

Aizen raises his gaze slowly, his narrowed eyes meeting Gin's in a clear warning.

"Was it here?" Gin asks, chasing this new piece of information like a wolf. "In this house? Or did you go to a hotel?"

"Gin," says Aizen, his voice deep and brewing with a wave of cold anger, but as always, it seems to have the exact opposite effect on Gin. Feeling a rush of heat go through him, Gin widens his smile.

"Don't worry, Aizen-sama, I won't tell anyone."

Aizen stands, and Gin can feel his pulse quicken. With an unreadable expression, Aizen tugs his tie free from around his neck and throws it aside. He undoes the top buttons on his fine shirt and walks over to Gin, who remains sprawled out in the chair. He tilts his head back and looks up at Aizen, who stares down at him.

He always looks impressive whenever Gin manages to get him like this. The anger and annoyance rippling under the surface of the otherwise professional mask. Invisible to anyone who doesn't know how to look. Gin knows. Aizen is teetering on the edge, and like always, it's a gamble. It's never clear which direction he'll go. Gin decides to push.

"How did he fuck you, Aizen-sama?" Gin whispers. "On all four? Bend over a table?"

A hand shoots out and seizes Gin by the hair, forcing his head back even more. Gin grabs the chair with both hands, holding on as he concentrates on not letting the pain show.

Aizen's eyes are dark as he looks down at Gin. He pulls even more, and Gin's back bows as he's forced back over the armrest, held in place only by Aizen's grip on his hair. His breath is caught in his throat as Aizen's other hand graces the skin just above his chest. Warm and steady fingers play with the collar of his shirt.

Trusting Aizen not to let him fall, Gin lets go of the chair and reaches out with his hands, touching Aizen's thighs. His face is almost at level with Aizen's crotch, and it's difficult to miss that Aizen is growing hard. Pretty sure that is evidence enough that Aizen isn't going to kill him right now, Gin brushes Aizen with his fingers.

"You can show me, Aizen-sama, if you want to."

The grip on his hair tightens painfully, and just as Gin thinks he might have gone too far this time, Aizen releases him. He nearly falls backward out of the chair but grabs it with both hands just in time and quickly straightens up. His entire head is pounding as his blood can finally rush south, and his scalp is singing with pain. He ignores it and looks up at Aizen, who now stands before him. The look he gives Gin is impossible to misread.

Licking his lips, Gin reaches for Aizen's belt. He gets the trousers open and pulls them down enough to free Aizen's cock. He wraps his fingers around it, stroking slowly. It hardens even more in Gin's hand, but aside from that, there's no reaction from the other man. Gin looks up. Aizen is watching him passively.

He hates that expression. This is not how the game's supposed to go. Annoyed, he leans forward and takes Aizen into his mouth. It's very one-sided. Aizen stands unmoving and does nothing to show if he's enjoying himself or not. The hard flesh in his mouth is the only sign Gin has, and he works it the best he knows, frustrated when he gets no other reaction.

Aizen knows this, of course. Whenever Gin glances up at him, the almost bored expression makes cold fury run through him.

Fine, if that how it goes.

Gin slips out of the chair and onto his knees, reaches up, and grabs Aizen's ass. He leans in, bringing him even further into his mouth, and stays there, nose brushing Aizen's skin. His scent is overpowering, but Gin forces himself to focus.

His own cock is throbbing between his legs, but he ignores it as he tugs at Aizen's trousers, getting them out of the way, and he moves his head up and down. His fingers play across the smooth skin of Aizen's ass, close to his slit.

His hair is grabbed again, and when he looks up, he feels a surge of triumph as the mask has cracked. Aizen is looking down at him, mouth slightly open and eyes black as night. Watching Aizen carefully, Gin lets his fingers play with the rim of Aizen's hole, never even attempting to breach it, but the reaction is instant. Aizen growls and uses the grip on Gin's hair to roughly pull him closer, forcing his cock deeper into Gin's mouth. Relaxing his throat, Gin lets Aizen fuck his mouth as he shifts his hands and holds onto Aizen's thighs.

His own cock is hurting now, neglected, but it's a small price to pay to see Aizen like this. Gin lets him do as he pleases. It's rough and slightly painful, but the sound of Aizen's heavy breathing and the urgency of his movements makes it all more than worth it. A chest-deep growl is the only warning Gin gets before the grip on his hair turns from painful to agonizing, and Aizen pulls him close and comes down his throat. Gin's eyes flutter at the sensation. Aizen pulls back slowly, and Gin sticks out a tongue, licking the head as it slips from between his lips.

Aizen lets go of his hair, and Gin leans forward, resting his forehead against Aizen's thigh as he tries to catch his breath. He freezes as gentle fingers brush over his hair, smoothing it down. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

"I need to go met with Yamamoto," Aizen says. The fingers and their gentle touch disappear. Gin bites down the disappointment.

"What?" he says, still leaning against Aizen. "You're going to leave me like this?" His cock is throbbing. He can easily take care of it himself, but he doesn't want to.

"Get up," says Aizen. Gin manages, though his knees protest a bit as he straightens his legs. Aizen winds an arm around his middle and brings him close. The kiss is hard and short, but Gin doesn't mind. They break apart, and he nuzzles against Aizen's neck as steady fingers open his trousers. He gasps as Aizen takes him in hand and gives his aching cock a long, slow stroke. He grabs Aizen by the shoulders, clinging to him as he's slowly brought to the edge. Breathing rapidly, he inhales Aizen's scent, pressing his lips against his skin as the feeling of those fingers on his cock nearly makes his legs give in. Finally, with a twist of his wrist, Aizen makes Gin come with a choked-off groan. His whole body trembles against Aizen, who holds him close until he calms down.

Chuckling slightly, Aizen lowers Gin back into the chair. Feeling boneless and almost slightly drunk, Gin grins up at him and grabs him by the shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. Aizen allows it and even cradles Gin's head in his hand, deepening the kiss until Gin is breathless. When he pulls back, his smile is warm. At least until he notices the evidence of Gin's release on his vest. Frowning, he runs his fingers over the mess.

"Sorry," Gin says, feeling anything but at this moment.

"No matter, I needed to change anyway." Gin grabs his hand and brings it to his lips, licking it clean of his own release. "It will probably take some time," says Aizen and watches him with amusement. Gin nods, flicking his tongue over Aizen's palm. "You should enjoy the Kuchiki hospitality in the meanwhile, but stay out of trouble."

Translation: snoop around and don't get caught.

Gin licks the last trace of cum from Aizen's fingers with a grin. "Yes, Aizen-sama."

"Don't be late for dinner," Aizen then says and gives him one last kiss before walking to the bathroom.

Feeling boneless and sated, Gin doesn't really want to get up, but Aizen is right. There are still hours until dinner, but it's still important. It's no doubt going to be the focus on this evening by staff and family members both. Gin highly doubts security will be slacked because of this, but it might be easier to sneak around when the whole house is on end preparing for it.

He glances at the door to the bathroom as he hears the sound of water being turned on. The thought of joining Aizen in the shower is tempting, but in the end, useless. Even if he hadn't just made Aizen come, there is no way the other man will accept him at this moment. Gin knows Aizen links his appearance to his performance. Something so simple as doing his hair is like slipping on the mask. To dress for the part has gotten a whole new meaning after meeting Aizen.

With a sigh, Gin gets up and fixes his clothes. He leaves Aizen's many rooms and heads down the hall for his own.

It's strange. The hallway is empty and silent. There's not even a sound coming from the rooms Gin knows is behind the walls around him, but he doesn't feel like he's alone. It's eerie.

The whole place seems to scream, _I'm watching you_.

But as he glances around, there're no signs of cameras at all. He mindlessly taps his knuckles against the walls he passes, but they sound dull and hard. He's missing something. He knows he is. Aizen knows it too, or he wouldn't have told Gin to look around.

Well, maybe he would anyway, and Gin is happy to have his permission.

He finds the door to his room easily enough and opens it. It's small. Only slightly larger than his bedroom at home, but no less extravagant than the rest of the house. The bed is a fine futon on a low wooden platform, with both pillows and blankets embroidered with gold and silver. Aside from a small table by the bed and a narrow closet, the room is bare.

A door at the foot of the bed leads to a small bathroom, and Gin, seeing the small bottles of shampoo and soap wrapped in paper by the sink, suddenly feels like he's visiting a hotel.

His bag is waiting for him on the bed. He reaches for it and then freezes. Someone has opened it.

The zipper is closed on the duffle bag, but not where he left it. There's a slight tear at one end where Gin always makes sure the two zippers met when he closes it. Now, they're about two centimeters left of the tear. Gin takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed, all the while staring at the bag.

It would make sense for the Kuchiki to search through their things. Safety and all that. Still… if Aizen claims that something like surveillance would be considered an insult to their guests, then looking through their personal belongings would be a downright disgrace. Or would it? Gin isn't sure he understands these people and their sense of honor.

He digs out his phone and sends a text to Aizen. _Someone has been through my things_ before throwing it on the bed. He opens the bag and rummers around, but nothing seems to be missing. He pulls out the shirts and trousers and stuffs them into the closet, not caring that they're a bit rumbled. He finds his small laptop from the bottom and quickly checks it over, but nothing seems amiss.

He doesn't like this. Not at all. What is he missing?

A small ping alerts him that Aizen has answered. _Stay alert_ , is all the message says. Gin sighs and puts his phone away. Yeah, he gathered that much.

He hides away his laptop in the bag, and stuffs it under the bed, and then finds some clean clothes to wear. While he wasn't allowed to bring his own clothes, Gin had managed to pack a few hoodies and some plain black trousers.

Aizen had accepted it, but only after ordering him to get clothes much finer and way more expensive than his own. The fabric is amazingly soft and light, but Gin still has a sense of dressing up as he puts it on. Still, it's lengths better than the suits, so he doesn't complain.

When he looks at himself in the mirror, he almost cringes. He looks like a pop star, or he would have, had he been better looking. He deeply misses his hooded jacket, which he was forced to leave at home. Instead, he got a black jacket that, while admittedly looks good with the deep purple hoodie, still seems too fine on him.

Still better than the suit, he tells himself. He digs his knife out of his boot and slips it into his pocket, along with his phone. Then he takes one last look at the room, memorizing how it looks before he slips out the door.

Following the growing mental map he's made of the place, Gin makes it back to the greeting hall with little trouble. He passes several servants who carry around towels and sheets or trays with tea. They all talk in hushed voices that die out the second he's within earshot. They all bow respectfully at him, and he grins widely at them, enjoying it when he catches glimpses of fright in their otherwise passive expressions.

He doesn't trust them, and each one he passes, he wonders if they're the ones who looked through his things. He plays with the thought of talking to one to see if he can somehow sneak it out of them, but quickly shakes off the idea. If he does, it will no doubt be told to Kuchiki Ginrei, and he'll be watched more closely. It will also throw suspicion unto Aizen. Can't have that. Not until Gin knows that Aizen is planning.

Honestly, how much easier would his life be if Aizen wasn't so suspicious and careful all the time? Very, is the answer to that, thank you very much. But it would also be much more boring.

There's no fun in knowing the rules to every game, no risk. And Gin has become quite good at playing these last few years. And he enjoys it. This is just another game, despite the risk being higher than before. Enemy territory and all that.

Grinning at the thought, Gin walks on, deeper into the Kuchiki estate.

It quickly becomes clear that what he thought was the main house is actually just one big entrance hall. The face of the estate.

Despite the hallways and rooms, it serves only to greet visitors. The real main house is behind it, connected to the entrance by an outdoor corridor, similar to the one leading to the guest house, only much, much grander.

It's an entire garden, with the corridor's floor stretching across a koi pond framed by pearly white stones and with flowers and trees surrounding it. It's purely for show since there's no way to step down into the garden from the corridor. Still, it looks perfect with the sun streaming down through the leaves of the trees.

It's the first time Gin has a sense of having stepped into another world. A world somehow frozen in time, never changing. He almost expects the samurai of old to appear, wearing armor and swords. But then he sees the doors to the main house and notices that despite their old look, the locks are the latest on the market.

The strange new world he's entered continues inside the main house. Gin actually stops up and has to take a moment to admire. The entrance and guest house are nothing compared to this.

The shining floors, the painted walls, and even the ceiling are made from wood with an almost golden glow. It feels warm, welcoming but also like a warning. _Look how great we are_ , it all seems to say, _do you wonder how we got all of this?_

Much of it is like walking through a museum. Large sliding doors stand open and lead into large rooms where the Kuchiki clan's treasures can be seen. Warrior armor, swords, clothes that must be over hundreds of years old. Vases and stone figures, maps, and paintings telling of battles and the history of the Kuchiki clan.

Gin is almost relieved to see the cameras hidden away in all the corners and the suited men standing discreetly by the closed doors he passes. It's like finally understanding a word in a foreign language.

They watch him carefully but don't stop him as he wanders on through the halls. There's more life here, more servants and clan members.

He even passes two women from the Kuchiki family. The silky black hair and fine features seem to be a universal Kuchiki thing, he sees. They don't even acknowledge him and are instead engrossed in a talk about some new earrings one of them has purchased. Gin might as well be one of the silent servants for all they care.

A growing sound of voices and things being moved around makes Gin look through a door. A large number of servants are moving around, sitting up several seats and small tables in a room bigger than the greeting hall.

He walks in and watches the servants work, slightly surprised by how efficient they are. One of them suddenly slides open a wall, revealing another room behind it. A table is already set up in there, larger and finer than the others. The cushions on the floor are a deep red with gold embroidery. Fit for a leader a powerful clan.

The servants don’t seem to notice him, so he taps one of them on the shoulder to get her attention. She gasps and almost drops the cushion in her hand as she spins around. "Hey," he says with a large smile. "Is this where we're eating tonight?"

She goes red as a tomato but manages a nod.

"Good," he says. "How long until dinner?"

She glances over her shoulder like she's hoping someone will come to her aid, but the other servants keep their eyes on their work. She then swallows and looks down. "F-F-Four hours, sir."

He resists the urge to pat her on the head. "Thank you very much. You can continue now."

Clearly flustered, she mumbles something and quickly runs out of the room, still with the cushion in her hand. Chuckling, Gin leaves as well. Four hours. Plenty of time.

He continues his walk, careful to remember each hall and each turn. He takes notice of the doors that are locked or blocked by a suit-wearing goon. He finds the kitchen, extremely large and so busy he doesn't dare to enter, and a narrow staircase that he's itching to go down. The stories of the underground tunnels are still at the forefront of his mind, but he resists the urge for now and walks on deeper into the maze.

It's only when he finds the garden that he truly understands just how big the Kuchiki estate really is.

He steps out unto a wide stone-laid path and looks up, mouth slightly open. At least a dozen more houses can be seen, built on the side of the mountain and barely visible behind large trees and foliage. The stone path he's standing on snakes its way through the garden and divides suddenly into several smaller ones that lead up the mountain to the little houses.

How many people are living here, he wonders? Looking back, he sees the main house standing tall and wide, like the head of a giant creature, protecting everything behind it.

The Kuchiki estate. A land in itself.

He knows it's been built over the course of hundreds of years, but Gin still has trouble understanding how they did it. And in secret even.

How many architects and workers were killed after finishing their job? How many had to die to create the myths around this place? He can't even imagine it, and for the first time, he worries. What _is_ Aizen planning, and how do these people fit in? What does he want from them, this place?

Whishing he knew, Gin leaves the stone path, ignoring the small _keep off the grass_ –sign, and walks through the garden, still stunned by the sheer size of it all. It doesn't take many steps before all he can hear is the sound of the mountain. The threes rustling in the wind, the birds singing, the running water somewhere nearby. It's a far cry from the city's sounds rooted so deeply in him that it's like a native tongue. But he has to admit that this is strangely idyllic.

He finds a cluster of sakura trees by a low wall. Despite not being the blooming season, the green is still looking beautiful and throws a subtle shade over a small pond. Gin notices that the wall seemed to run around the garden, accompanied by even more trees.

Right, the Kuchiki crest has a sakura flower on it.

Makes sense, he supposes. He looks up the mountain and wonders if the wall also stretches up to the smaller houses. Seems like a tricky walk up to them. If anyone is living there, Gin doesn't hope they go out drinking, or they might just stumble right off the mountainside.

Lowering his gaze, his eyes catch on another building at the end of the garden. As he wanders over, his feet find a path that shows more travel than the others. Now curious, Gin follows it and is more than surprised to find what can only be called a training area.

The large building shields an open ground separated from the rest of the garden. Hard stamped sand covers most of it, and an archery range is set up beside a ringed-off area with softer sand, no doubt used for wrestling of some kind.

Gin wonders if they have a shooting range as well, though he doubts it will be out in the open. He turns towards the building, where a door stands open. He skips over and peeks inside and sees it's a dōjō.

It's huge, and while that note no longer impresses him, he's still fascinated at what he sees. High walls tastefully painted with the Kuchiki symbol, along with beautiful art of fighting warriors. The ceiling above seems endless, and narrows windows high up lets in soft streams of natural light. They hit the floor, and it almost feels like a temple. Ancient and otherworldly.

Like all the other buildings on the ground, Gin has no idea how it could survive hundreds of years, thousands of earthquakes and storms, and countless wars. He almost wishes he'd studied architecture, then he'd be able to understand.

Pushing the door slightly more open, Gin slips out of his shoes and pats across the floor of the dōjō. His feet brush over small dents and knicks in the wood. Tales of wear and use.

He likes it, he decides, despite it almost feels like he's entered Madarame's wettest dream. Especially when he takes a closer look at the back wall.

Training weapons of all kinds line it, just waiting to be used. Never able to resist any type of weapon, Gin heads straight for them. It's like stepping into a martial arts movie set. There are weapons Gin has never seen before and some he has, though he doesn't know their names. One bokken made of a light-colored wood catches his eyes, and he reaches for it.

It fits nicely in his hand. It's far heavier and longer than his knife, but there's something compelling about the extra length. He gives it a twirl and finds it a challenge with the added weight and the new balance.

Taking a step back, he makes the twirls larger and throws the bokken from hand to hand. He almost feels like a kid in a schoolyard, swinging around a stick, but it's strangely fun. He turns, holding the wooden blade close to his body, and then thrust it forward, piercing the empty air.

 _Whap_!

Hissing, Gin drops the bokken and draws his throbbing fingers close. He turns around, ready to snarl at his attacker, but his words die out as he sees who it is. For a second, Gin thinks it's Sōjun. The pale, beautiful face framed by long black hair is Kuchiki all the way, but then he sees that the man is much younger and honestly prettier than Sōjun.

He's watching Gin with grey eyes that makes a tingle run down his back, not entirely unpleasant. He's dressed in old-fashioned training clothes, the shirt white and the trousers a deep blue. The Kuchiki symbol is embroidered on his shoulder in a silver thread that almost shines.

The man makes quite a sight, but Gin is more busy eyeing the tip of the pure white bokken still held in front of his face. The same one that smacked him over the fingers, which are still hurting.

"Ah, I didn't know I wasn't alone," Gin says and takes a step back so he can bow. "My apologies, Kuchiki-sama. I didn't see you."

The Kuchiki's expression doesn't change when he says, "Who are you?" He somehow manages to sound curious and utterly uninterested at the same time. The bokken doesn't move an inch as he speaks.

"Oh, I'm new here," says Gin and dials his smile down a bit to a more normal level. "Was just looking around. Big place and all that."

The Kuchiki's gaze seems locked unto Gin. He slowly lowers the bokken. "What is your specialty?" he asks.

"My what?"

That gets him an annoyed look. "I assume you've had your physical test," Kuchiki says and turns away like he can't be bothered to look at Gin until he gets a proper answer. "What weapons did you use?"

Deciding to roll with it, Gin says, "Ah, yes. Well, I'm best with knives." Wrong answer. The Kuchiki's mouth twitches at the edge. Gin thinks he's about to be thrown out when Kuchiki walks over and picks up the bokken Gin dropped. He holds it in his hand for a moment before going over to the weapons lining the wall and switches it out for another. This one is black and much shorter.

He throws it, and Gin catches it easily. "Try it," he says and walks past Gin, who watches as he begins what looks like basic moves to warm up. It's not a dull sight. He truly seems to a flawless specimen of the family.

Out of all the women and men of the Kuchiki clan Gin has seen, there had always been a noticeable flaw in their otherwise otherworldly beauty. A too-long nose. A receding hairline. A funny-shaped mouth. But this one is different.

Everything about him seems perfect. His hair and fine features are the most beautiful Gin has seen so far. While he isn't as tall as Gin, his body seems better fitted. Gin has and always will be on the dangerously lean side, with long pale limbs that added to his height makes him look even stranger. This Kuchiki man seems blessed with just the right height and just the right built – like a purebred horse.

Gin is so used to people being slightly off. Crooked, if you will. It's fascinating to see someone appearing to be flawless.

He's jarred out of his thoughts when those grey eyes suddenly met his in a stern look. "So?" he asks. "How does it fit?"

Gin looks at the bokken in his hand and tries to twirl it around a few times. It's far shorter than the one he had earlier, but after a few spins, but he finds it fits his hand much better. He looks up at Kuchiki, and the grin on his lips pales a bit when he sees the black-haired man stand in the middle of the dōjō, looking at him expectantly.

 _Oh_ , Gin realizes _we're doing_ this _, then?_

Very aware that he's about to engage in a mock fight with a Kuchiki, Gin can't help but feel a sense of thrill. It's a bad idea. A horrible idea. The Kuchiki clearly already thinks Gin is something he's not, and the reasons not to do this can fill a list longer than his arm.

He takes off his hoodie and throws it aside, along with his socks. Barefooted, he steps up in front of the young Kuchiki, the bokken ready in his hand.

He barely gets a second to prepare before the Kuchiki is on the attack. Gin reacts with instinct and twists around, jumping aside as Kuchiki slashes through the air in a way even Gin knows is nothing like traditional kendo. His grip on his own weapon tightens, and he raises it up, just in time to catch the next attack. And it's like getting shocked.

The hit is so hard, he can feel it vibrate painfully through his arm. His other hand flies up to grab the handle, and he forcefully shoves Kuchiki back before jumping aside. The young Kuchiki moves with practiced ease, and despite the violent attacks, he doesn't even have a hair out of place.

Gin resists the urge to shake his hand to get some sensation back into it, not wanting to lose face so early in the fight. Instead, he keeps himself ready, having now realized that the Kuchiki is taking this more than seriously. He grins as he's attacked again.

Now, while Gin is a novice with anything longer than a pocket knife, he's still been in more street brawls than he can even remember. He might not be trained, but he has experience making anything within reach into a passable weapon. And that includes the bokken now in his hand. So he holds his own.

As the young Kuchiki attacks, Gin blocks and turns and spins around, avoiding getting hit. When he can, he jabs at the other man, not even coming close before the blade of his bokken is knocked aside with the loud sound of wood against wood.

It's fun. It's very fun.

It doesn't take long before he's sweating and breathing hard. His hand hurts, but it's all worth it since the Kuchiki is beginning to show signs of fatigue as well.

As they dance around, Gin wonders if the Kuchiki actually knows who he is. Every time an attack cuts close to Gin's face, or their bokken met with more force than he thought possible, he thinks the other man has finally figured out that Gin lied about being a part of his household – or at least omitted the truth. But then he suddenly stops and corrects Gin's stance or his posture, and they continue as before.

It's been a while since Gin has been challenged like this, and he enjoys it immensely. The fact that he's training with a Kuchiki who doesn't know him is an added bonus. However, what's really fun, is when Gin sees an opening in the other's defense. It doesn't come out of the blue. It's a pattern he's noticed for a while now, and he's been waiting for it to be big enough to use. And when it does, he strikes.

He steps in close, jabs the bokken at the Kuchiki, who deflects, leaving his left side open. Gin spins around, quick, with his own sword close to the body, and then strikes. The blade slides across the other man's side and would have cut him open if it had been made of steel.

It doesn't mean victory, though. Gin has been struck a few times already, so if it had been a real fight, he'd be the one close to bleeding out. Still, it's great knowing he got a hit, and the surprised look on the young Kuchiki's face is priceless.

It's also made better since they're standing so close, Gin can feel the other man's breath on his cheek. They're both breathing hard, sweating and warm, and Gin can't help but enjoy it all much more than he should. This is why he doesn't see Kuchiki move until it's too late.

His feet are kicked out from beneath him, and he hits the floor hard. Kuchiki follows him down, placing a foot on Gin's wrist, pressing with his weight until he loses the grip on his weapon. Then he keeps Gin down with a knee to his chest and accompanies it with the tip of the white bokken, pressed against the skin below his chin.

Gin tilts his head back, exposing his throat. "You win, Kuchiki-sama."

The grey eyes watch him intensely with an unreadable expression. Gin has no idea if the Kuchiki is happy with his victory or not. A sudden need to see some kind of emotion fills Gin.

He goes limp on the floor, acting out his defeat. As soon as he feels the tip of the bokken leaves his skin, he moves. He grabs the Kuchiki's arm with his free hand and uses his entire body to twists them around. He catches a surprised look run over that perfect face before the Kuchiki is below him, lying on his back with Gin's knees on each side of his hips and his sword hand held above his head in a tight grip.

Gin grins in victory, enjoying how the grey eyes narrow.

"You cheat."

"I do," Gin says. He doesn't get to enjoy it for long. The Kuchiki is trained in this as well, and in a flash, he's free and knocks Gin back on his ass. How he gets on his feet so fast, Gin has no idea, but he feels the now-familiar nip of the sword tip against his neck, pressing hard until Gin is forced to lean back. It keeps nudging him until he's lying down flat on the floor.

"You're defeated," Kuchiki says.

Gin lifts his head, letting the tip dig a bit into his skin, still grinning and satisfied with having rattled the Kuchiki a bit. A few loose, black hairs cling to his forehead, and there's a hint of pink on his perfect cheekbones.

The Kuchiki removes the bokken and straightens up, and it's like his entire demeanor changes on the spot. The warrior is gone, and a perfectly well-behaved young man instead stands above him. It's a little jarring.

Gin drops his head back on the floor and closes his eyes. His body is tinkling, like after a good, hard round with Aizen. He's never sparred with anyone like this before. He really wants to ask for a rematch.

"You should go back," the Kuchiki suddenly says. "Dinner will be served soon."

Oh, right. Dinner. More pointless traditions and mind games. His mood sinks a bit. It will be pure torture trying to keep up the act all evening.

Sighing, he slowly rolls over unto his stomach, no doubt making a very pathetic scene. Then he raises himself unto his knees. The Kuchiki is already by the wall, wiping down his white bokken with a cloth before carefully placing it back in its place.

Gin watches him for a moment, slightly fascinated by the look of the man. Now that their fight is over, he looks just like before. Composed and not a hair out of place.

A very childlike feeling fills Gin. He doesn't want this game to end so soon.

As if sensing Gin watching him, the Kuchiki turns around, and their eyes met. He raises an eyebrow to question why Gin is still here. Changing his grin into an appropriate mask of embarrassment, Gin rubs the back of his head.

"I'm afraid I've lost my way. Can I ask for directions back?"

The sigh is barely heard, but Kuchiki still nods. "Follow me," he says and heads towards the door. Gin quickly returns his short bokken to its place and grabs his shoes, socks and hoodie.

"Thank you, Kuchiki-sama," he says and follows, finding it hard not to smile.

The route Kuchiki takes him on is different than the one he came from. Instead of going through the garden, they take a roofed passaged that's almost hidden by trees and bushes.

Gin tries to reference this to his mental map but fails when he suddenly finds himself back in the main building. Feeling like he's been turned around, he does his best to conceal his confusion as he wanders down a hallway he doesn't recognize at all. Nothing seems familiar. Gin wonders if they're in a part of the house he couldn't access before.

A small thrill of excitement rushes through him. Has he managed to get behind those locked and guarded doors already? Even Aizen will be impressed by that.

When they turn a corner and Gin suddenly sees a parade of servants carrying food from the kitchen, it's like the two pieces of the map in his mind get connected, and he knows where he is now. The young Kuchiki stops up and turns around.

"The kitchen is through that door. You should find the matron in there."

 _Oh_ , Gin thinks, _so I'm a servant now?_

Still, he bows deeply. "Thank you very much, Kuchiki-sama. I'm sorry to have taken up your time."

When he straightens up, the Kuchiki regards him with an unreadable expression. Then, true to noble form, he merely turns around and leaves without saying anything else.

Gin watches him go for a moment, fascinated by the hair falling down and barely reaching the embroidered sign on the back. He finally has to step aside as a pair of servants leave the kitchen, carrying trays with food. Right. Dinner.

Gin quickly checks the time on his phone. He has less than forty minutes until dinner is served. Aizen will kill him if he shows up in anything but a suit.

Not wanting to go through the kitchen, Gin walks back and takes a right turn, hoping the hallway will lead him back to the center of the main house. From there, he should be able to get back to his room fast enough to change clothes and then get to the dining hall.

It doesn't.

Annoyed, he tries to go back and take a turn to the left instead. This looks better. He hurries down the hall only to stop up short when he hears voices.

A pair of wooden doors are opening not far from where he is. They're thick and slightly off in style compared to the rest of the house. Newer is perhaps the word.

He walks closer and peeks in. His eyes widen as he sees Ginrei and Sōjun stand by a large desk, looking through some papers. They're speaking in low voices when Ginrei turns towards the door, and Gin scrambles back to get out of view.

A ridiculous large ornated vase is standing in the hallway, and he ducks behind it just in time as the two men exit the room.

"… but let's wait until tomorrow," says Ginrei. He locks the doors and hides a key away in his pocket. "I want to be sure."

"Yes, Father," says Sōjun, and despite the passive tone, Gin can see a slight look of disapproval in his eyes. Something is going on.

"Kuchiki-sama!"

Gin nearly jumps on the spot as a suited Kuchiki man rounds the corner and walks down the hall towards them.

"Kuchiki-sama, dinner will soon be served."

"Very well," says the old man, and they walk away, still talking in hushed voices.

Gin leaves his hiding spot and sneaks over to the doors, placing his fingers on the polished wood. The short glimpse he got of the room gives him a pretty good idea of what's inside it, and he's itching to get a closer look.

Too bad he's expected at dinner. Now would be a perfect time, with everyone occupied. Reluctantly, he turns away and runs back to his room.


End file.
